


Age is just a number

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, F/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 11:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16533920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: He had looked a little younger than her, but she had thought it was only by a couple of years, she had no reason to believe he was eighteen, almost ten years her junior, until she heard Mya screaming behind her.Turning, she frowned at her friend and the phone waving in her face, instinctively batting it away in irritation.“Sansa just pulled an eighteen-year-old,” Mya cackled into the phone, her hand over her heart as she gave a determined, drunken look at her screen, her voice dripping with sudden seriousness. “I am so proud!”





	Age is just a number

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt pride.  
> And inspired by a real night out I had with my friends. Unfortunately, I'm still waiting on my own Jon Snow to appear at the pub lol

It wasn’t like Sansa was a teenager, looking to pull some hot guy on the dancefloor. She wasn’t even having a bad time of it, life wise. She had a budding career, good friends and although she was single, she was happy enough with it.

She had just been out with Mya and her friend’s, celebrating her the woman’s thirtieth birthday. And, well, needless to say, the drink had been flowing and she had been high with the euphoria of dancing to the cheesy nineties music.

The guy had caught her eye a couple of times. Those curls and those cute round glasses just kept capturing her attention and then, there was that shy smile on his lips every time their eyes met.

After a while, she had given in and sat for a while, talking with him. Or rather, yelling over the music. And it had been nice, easy. Also, he was doing something wicked to her when he looked at her like that!

So, when they had kind of bumped into each other in the corridor of the bathrooms, she had pressed her body flush against his and shot him a flirtatious look over her shoulder. His dark eyes had followed her movements and before long he was on her heels like a faithful dog.

She turned towards him, already anticipating the kiss as his arm wrapped around her waist and her fingers buried in his hair. He had been good, very good in fact judging by the way she clung to him, uncaring of the full club around them and her toes curled in her boots.

He had looked a little younger than her, but she had thought it was only by a couple of years, she had no reason to believe he was eighteen, almost ten years her junior, until she heard Mya screaming behind her.

Turning, she frowned at her friend and the phone waving in her face, instinctively batting it away in irritation.

“Sansa just pulled an eighteen-year-old,” Mya cackled into the phone, her hand over her heart as she gave a determined, drunken look at her screen, her voice dripping with sudden seriousness. “I am so proud!”

“Christ!” Sansa yelped, leaping away from him as though his touch suddenly burned for all the wrong reasons and not for the desire that had slowly been coursing through her.

She rushed back to her friends, trying to hide her red face behind her hair. But Mya threw an arm around her, declaring her pride once more before placing a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“I’m a bloody cradle-snatcher,” Sansa hissed, making Mya snort.

“Nah, you’re twenty-seven Sans,” her friend cackled, taking another messy drink. “Still a pretty young thing. And if what I hear about young Jon Snow’s mouth, I wouldn’t pass that opportunity up darling!”

Still, Sansa had decided to call it a night and called a taxi. She saw the boy, Jon as Mya had named him, trying to push through the crowd to catch up with her as she left.

Within moments of sitting in the nearest taxi, she felt her phone buzz and rolled her eyes at Mya’s name on the screen.

“Sorry for running off,” she answered her phone with a sigh.

“Sansa,” her friend cut her off. “I have a lost puppy here. Come and claim him!”

“He’s eighteen!” she snapped, shaking her head. “Barely legal!”

“But legal all the same. And desperately into you!” Mya retorted. “Age is just a number! I told him you were twenty-nine by the way and he didn’t even bat an eyelid!”

Sansa hang up, shaking her head again. Sure, Jon was cute and a damn good kisser. Mya had implied that he was good at other things too, and Sansa was pretty damn horny these days, the downside of being single being the expense of batteries for vibrators!

“Christ, am I really considering this?” she muttered to herself before she made up her mind. “Sorry driver, I forgot my scarf at the club. I’ll pay you the full fare if you could take me back.”

His grumble had made her doubt her decision until she re-entered the pub and saw Jon’s face light up at the sight of her.

By the next morning, after learning just how good Jon’s mouth was at all kinds of kissing, she reluctantly sent her friend a text to admit that she was right again.


End file.
